


sensitive

by intoapuddle, jestbee



Series: Fic Every Day in June 2019 [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kink, Kink Exploration, M/M, Marks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scratching, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 06:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19203397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoapuddle/pseuds/intoapuddle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jestbee/pseuds/jestbee
Summary: "Do you like it?" Phil asks again. He doesn't know why he wants to hear Dan say it, but he does."I like it," Dan nods, tipping his back to bare his neck to Phil's teeth.





	sensitive

**Author's Note:**

> Written with the fantastic @intoapuddle and based off the picture of Dan in Britney shirt, and Phil's selfie with stubble. Here's what would happen if they were at the same time... or at least in our heads it is.

A quiet evening at home is what they needed.

As usual, that quiet evening has turned into one in the morning as they sink further and further into the sofa, but Phil is just as happy about that. It hasn’t been long since their hands started to wander, and their respective spots on either end merged into one, but Dan’s hands are already clutching at the front of Phil’s shirt like he’s been waiting for it.

Phil doesn't really know where the urgency is coming from, but he tries to match Dan's pace, to hold him closer and try to keep up like he does in all areas of their lives. 

Phil huffs a breath into the patch of skin just below Dan's jaw and revels in the full-body shiver that goes through him. He settles his weight on Dan's lap, and Dan spreads his legs just the tiniest amount and plants his feel so that Phil is comfortable. His body is warm, like it always is, and the tension from the last couple of days winds up and away and Phil smears his mouth over Dan's smile and breathes him in. 

Dan chuckles against Phil’s lips and Phil smiles back. Dan isn’t laughing because something is funny, though. There is tension rolling off his shoulders. They have had a few hours of laughter and food. Phil leans into Dan, meeting the pressure of his lips as his hands cover Dan’s on Phil’s chest. Maybe it is time to indulge in another one of Dan’s favourite things. Or maybe that would be presumptuous.

“Dan?” Phil breathes, resting his forehead against Dan’s.

"Mm?" Dan hums. His fingers curl in Phil's shirt again and angling his head up again, searching for Phil's mouth. 

Phil pecks the side of his mouth with playful smirk. Dan’s dazed expression follows him.

“Are you tired?” Phil asks.

Dan shakes his head. His bottom lip is poked out, plush and inviting. He has the ghost of dark circles around his eyes and he looks tired, but if he's telling Phil he's not it's because he doesn't want to be. 

Phil grins. He cups Dan’s jaw, leaning in for a kiss, deeper this time. Dan’s hum of approval vibrates against Phil’s lips and Phil feels some of that urgency ignite within himself, too. He feels drunk on hot breaths and wandering hands, on the way Dan’s skin feels smooth next to his as he rubs his cheek against Dan’s, revelling in the feeling.

“I’m tired,” Phil whispers, despite himself.

Maybe part of why he says it is just to tease. Maybe he likes to hear that groan before Dan is about to beg for it. What he doesn't expect though, is the way Dan looks up at him through dark lashes, with his fingers still curled in Phil's shirt and raises the corner of his mouth into a challenging smirk. 

"Can't keep up, old man?" he says. 

Phil raises his eyebrows, fighting a smile.

“Excuse me?” he asks, squinting at him in challenge.

He reaches out, mussing his hand in Dan’s hair just because he can. Dan, on cue, tries to swat Phil’s hands away out of habit. He doesn’t have to when it’s just the two of them, but the reaction is just as fun.

Once Phil complies and stops, he can’t help but laugh as Dan stares up at him with a sour expression. His hair is fighting gravity as it stands in a voluminous wave atop his head, a soft fluff to mirror the cosy, pouting Dan in his arms. 

"Cute," Phil says. 

Dan's eyes narrow the tiniest amount again, opening his mouth as if to talk back, but Phil reaches out to tap a finger against the dimple in his cheek, stopping him before he even starts. 

“Stay like that,” Phil grins. “You’ve got to see.”

Dan stays quiet as Phil reaches over him to get his phone, but he quickly shies away and Phil navigates to the camera app. 

"No, Phil," Dan says, dropping his chin and trying to squirm away.

"I want a picture," Phil insists, gently pushing at his shoulder to get him to sit back up straight. He uses the leverage from where he's sat in Dan's lap and almost slides off in their scuffle. 

"For god's sake," Dan says, rolling his eyes but wrapping an arm around Phil's waist to steady him. "Fine, but I look like a messy rat right now." 

He pulls the neckline of his t-shirt up and buries his chin under the soft, white jersey. Britney's face stares out at Phil, stretched and distorted slightly. 

Phil shakes his head, but he takes the picture anyway. It's funny, of course, but it isn't really what he was going for. He wants all of it, Dan in soft lighting and a pouty expression. Fluffy, finger raked curls standing proudly atop his head like a delicate cloud of muted brown.

Phil lowers the camera for a second, and tugs gently on the t-shirt, pinching Britney between her eyebrows. She keeps smiling, regardless. 

"Please," Phil says, probably wearing his own pout now, "just one? One picture, and I'll leave you alone." 

Dan mumbles under his breath, and his eyebrows do a dissatisfied dance, but he pulls the shirt back down. 

"What?" Phil says.

"I said you better not leave me alone after you've subjected me to this," Dan says.

Phil smiles at him, shaking his head fondly and raising the camera to snap the photo he really wants. He turns the screen to show Dan the resulting image and laughs as Dan quirks an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Mate,” Dan says and looks up at Phil. “It looks like I’ve got cat scratches all over my face from your fucking beard.”

Phil takes a look at the screen then, and Dan is right. Tiny, angry red marks are scattered over his cheeks and jawline. His face is flushed. Phil puts the phone back down and takes a measuring look at the Dan in front of him. The flushed skin and marks are there, but not nearly as prevalent as they were in the picture.

“It’s not as bad in real life,” Phil says, cupping Dan’s face in both of his hands.

He can feel Dan’s pulse point against his pinky, the movement as he swallows. Those little red marks could definitely get worse. Phil feels something stir in his muscles, some possessive excitement leading him to move his hands down to squeeze ever so slightly around his throat before they settle on his shoulders.

Some ghost of a smile lingers behind Dan’s eyes, but he stays put, stays quiet, as Phil leans back in and kisses him hard.

Dan goes easy under him, yielding to Phil's insistent touch. He smooths his fingers over Dan's shoulders, his biceps, following the line of the muscle down to the crook of his elbow and then moving swiftly to tug the hem of Dan's shirt upward. 

Phil ends their kiss, only briefly and reluctantly, as Dan's shirt comes free in one motion. It's quite the smooth move if Phil says so himself, one born out of nearly a decade of practise. 

"Thought you were tired," Dan says. 

Phil shakes his head and slings Britney over his shoulder so that she lands on the floor some ways away, "shut up." 

He leans back in and swallows Dan's retort. 

Dan goes quiet, except for the gasped out moan as Phil moves down, scratching his chin against Dan’s cheek a little harder and settles his lips against his neck. 

“What’s got into you?” Dan says in a whispered mumble.

He arches his back as Phil moves his palms over Dan’s chest, harder, fingernails brushing against his skin and then digging in just a little bit. Phil’s heart races as Dan groans, pushing up against Phil’s crotch.

“You like it?” Phil asks.

Pink blossoms on Dan's chest, a patina of flushed skin where Phil's fingers have been. Phil stares at it, running the pad of his thumb over the puffy welt left by his nail across the line of Dan's ribs. 

"I think _you_ do," Dan says. 

Phil meets his eyes, thumb pressing down until Dan hisses. 

"You're so sensitive," Phil says. He sounds in awe, awash with fascination. 

It not that he didn't know Dan was sensitive. It's not like he hasn't seen Dan's cheeks flush, or way his lips get darker when Phil bites down on them. But this is different, somehow, but Phil doesn't really want to stop and think about why. 

Dan smiles, eyes flitting over Phil’s face quickly, from his eyes to his lips. He grabs at the hem of Phil’s shirt, urging it off.

Phil goes with it, and tosses it to his side once it’s been pulled off over his head and leans back down to scratch his teeth against Dan’s already flushed jawline.

“Oh,” Dan moans, a short gasp.

Phil grins. “Oh?” he repeats, pulling away a little to look at the result.

Dan shakes his head, “Shut up.”

"No," Phil says, and flicks the edge of his nail over Dan's nipple and delights in the hiss it elicits. 

Dan arches up into him again and Phil rocks his hips down onto the insistent push of Dan's hardening cock. 

"Do you wanna—" Dan starts, but Phil already has a hand on his waistband, and is attempting to find a way to get his jogging bottoms off while Dan does the same for him. 

It's a mess, far less smooth than the t-shirt removal, but ten years of practise can only remove so much natural clumsiness. Dan doesn't seem to mind, his fingers are eager and uncoordinated, pulling so hard at Phil's grey jersey shorts that Phil thinks he hears the faint sound of a stitch popping somewhere. 

They get there, giggling as they steal kisses before they’re finally free of clothing and Phil sits back down on Dan’s lap.

Dan wraps a hand around Phil’s cock, squeezing slightly as he pulls his foreskin up over the head. Phil hums in approval, eyes closing as he noses into Dan’s neck and touches him wherever he can reach. The pads of his fingers wander over his ribs, down on his waist, until he reaches around his back and scratches softly at the skin there.

“Uh,” Dan breathes. “Phil.”

Dan’s hand strokes him faster. He probably isn’t thinking about it, but it’s too much too soon and if Dan keeps going Phil is going to come.

“Shh,” Phil shushes him, putting a stopping finger to Dan’s eager wrist.

Dan stops and looks up at him through his eyelashes once Phil pulls back.

“Sorry,” Dan says with a shy smile. “Got a bit carried away.”

There is something about the way Dan bites his lip, cheeks flushed and chest scattered with scratch marks, that makes Phil feel like he is really about to lose control.

“Fuck,” Phil sighs. “Do you know how cute you are?”

Dan has no time to respond before Phil kisses him again. Phil's fingers leave Dan's wrist, giving him the opportunity if not the permission, to take Phil in hand again and to squeeze gently. Phil groans into Dan's mouth and bucks his hips so that his cock slides through the tight grip Dan has on him, the flush pink tip pushing out the other side and nudging against Dan's neglected length. 

Phil gasps as Dan rearranges them, pressing their cocks together base to tip and applying light pressure so that silky, hot skin slides easily, making them both groan. 

"Yeah," Phil says. It doesn't make any sense, and he isn't really sure what unanswered questions he's agreeing to. 

"Yeah, yeah," Dan replies, and he's making no sense either, but maybe it doesn't matter. "Come on." 

Phil's fingertips sink back into the tight muscles of Dan's shoulder blades, raking down to create vivid red lines he won't be able to see until afterwards. But knowing they are there is enough, knowing that Dan's skin is pink and angry, marked up by Phil's hands as Phil bounces in his lap, thrusting his wet, aching cock against Dan's as Dan's fist continues to pump over them both. 

His drops his head to Dan's shoulder and just tries to ride it out. His thighs ache, his vision is blurry, and he can feel the sweat gathering at his hairline. 

“Ah,” Dan gasps.

He stops moving. His other hand comes down to Phil’s thigh as if to stop him, and Phil complies reluctantly.

“What?” Phil asks, slightly frustrated and very ready to get where they were going.

“I’m gonna come,” Dan says, voice small and so gone for it that apparently Phil has to take matters into his own hands.

“Then come,” Phil says.

He starts to thrust into Dan’s fist again, picking up the pace as he feels Dan melt underneath him. Phil keeps one hand over Dan’s, as a reminder that Phil is the one in control, whatever that means.

Dan breathes noisily as their cocks align in an easy slide. Phil digs his fingers in harder, feeling the skin underneath give to the pressure.

“Oh, my God,” Dan moans as he tries to push into the feeling. “Why is that so good?”

Phil puts his mouth on Dan’s, the sensations doubling as his muscles tighten in preparation.

"Do you like it?" Phil asks again. He doesn't know why he wants to hear Dan say it, but he does. 

"I like it," Dan nods, tipping his back to bare his neck to Phil's teeth. 

Phil nips at the skin over Dan's pulse point and licks at it as it blooms into a hazy pink. Dan's skin tastes familiar, salty with the tang of perspiration, evidence of how worked up they are, how close to the edge they are after only a relatively short time. 

It's always been like this with Dan. From giggling to groaning in short measure, picking up each other's speed and falling into step without having to say exactly where they're headed. 

Phil sucks harder at Dan’s neck, his thrusts getting shorter, as Dan starts stroking them both to match his pace.

It’s perfect. Dan’s body is alive with want underneath him, and Phil pushes as far as he dares to, grabbing and biting and receiving more and more appreciative noises the harder he goes.

Dan comes first. With a jolt, wetness spills between their bodies, a surprised breath seemingly shocked out of his lungs and Phil forces his eyes open to take in the sight of him. Face slack, his eyes are half closed and glistening with pure bliss.

“Look at you,” Phil moans, his vision becoming a blur of all that soft skin and all those angry red marks. “God, look at you.”

Phil’s face twists and he buries it in the crook of Dan’s neck when he can’t prolong it anymore. The backs of his eyelids burst with stars as the orgasm is forced out of him. He was ready to come ten minutes ago, but the force of it now makes all of that worth it.

Dan strokes him through it, the muscle in his forearm flexing and Phil comes down slowly, slumping into Dan's body, mess between them ignored in favoured of getting as close as he can to all of that lovely warm skin. 

"Tired now?" Dan asks. 

Phil doesn't have the energy to say _shut up_ like he wants to, so instead he breathes a sigh deliberately onto the sensitive skin of Dan's neck and giggles when Dan squirms away from the tickle of it. 

"I'm tired now," Dan says. 

Phil lifts his head to look at him. His eyes still have a tinge of purple-grey beneath them, and his face is littered with the network of red dots left behind by Phil's stubble, but he looks happy, content. 

If it takes all of this to make Dan admit to being tired, Phil will take it. He's happy to help Dan reach that conclusion whenever he wants, frankly. 

"Shower," Phil says, easing himself away with aching arms and legs that feel like jelly as he heaves himself to standing, "And then bed." 

Dan nods. "Hm, okay," Dan says, clambering up after him, "Are you going to shave the beard yet?" 

Phil looks at the clusters of red on Dan's body, the way his face is flushed, his chest marked. He runs a hand down Dan's back and makes him walk in front so that he can look at the long, pink lines from Dan's nape down to the dip of his waist. 

"No," he says, "I think I'll leave it a little longer."

Dan looks back over his shoulder as he walks away and smiles at him.

“Good.”


End file.
